It was supposed to be a happy day today.

It is a happy day today, Sungmin thinks as he tugs on his hoodie. He pulls it over his head, slightly harsher than intended. He wills the fabric to stretch, trying to make it cover his eyes. He fails.

He looks up and sees his fellow members. They are all happy, laughing, the emotions finally reaching their eyes. He sees the sparkles in their eyes, all the pent-up up tears resurfacing in the joyous reunion. They’re all crowding around Kangin, shooting him questions a mile a minute (“Kangin-ah, how much were they feeding you inside?” “Hyung, was it hard?” “Hyung, did you miss me?” “Why do you still look like a racoon?” “Where would you like to eat, hyung?”).

He watches as Kangin shrugs all of the questions off, and then envelops them all in a group hug. Leeteuk’s face, though smiling, is red and blotchy in places, tears streaming down his crimson cheeks. The leader was the saddest when Kangin had left. And now, Sungmin believes, Leeteuk must also be the happiest now that Kangin was back.

Sungmin closes his eyes and remembers it all.

It was the day Kangin was scheduled to enter the army. Everybody was there, even Heechul hyung. Loyal fans had come to pay their respects, loyally supporting their idol, a person that had taken up a special place in their hearts. It was a sad day for ELF. But then again, it was just a short journey. It was only for two years, not five, not seven, not forever—but two.

Leeteuk had cried buckets, and rivers, and oceans, breaking and shattering fully once they were inside the confines of their van. It was Sungmin that held him through it all. He could remember the sound—the heart-wrenching, hollow sobbing—that came out of the leader’s once cheerful mouth.

“I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want him to go,” Leeteuk hiccupped out, his words muffled as it hit in soft, uneven, hot gasps against Sungmin’s collarbone. “I didn’t want him to go. Why did they let him go?”

Sungmin felt as if Leeteuk’s words were being engraved into his skin, and it sort of hurt. He could remember feeling this stinging sensation pricking his eyes as he rubbed circles around the leader’s back, mumbling words of comfort that just spewed out of his mouth like word vomit. His brain and his heart was numb, not fully grasping the fact that their fellow member had just entered the army, that his brother was now going away for two years to serve their country.

When they had finally arrived at the dorm, they were greeted with deafening silences. Grim faces with tear-stained cheeks, red eyes and runny noses, cold hands and even colder hearts.

Sungmin had silently slid inside the room he shared with the maknae. He took off his cap, slid inside the covers of his bed, and silently wept.

He opens his eyes when he hears melodious laughter. They are laughing at a comment Ryeowook makes about Yesung and his turtle obsession, not to mention his constant selca-taking. Kangin comments, “Yah, you’re turning into Heechul-ah.”

Donghae interrupts, “Hyung, don’t say that. He can hear you.”

“Hear me? Who?”

“Heechul hyung. He has ears from hell, you know. He hears everything.”

There is a conspiratorial aura hanging in the air, then it is blown away by their boisterous giggling, followed by a loud thwack, Kangin’s hand connecting with Donghae’s back.

“Nothing’s changed, hasn’t it?” Kangin sort of asks, not really expecting a reply. His voice is hopeful, and his eyes drink up the glorious smiles they give him, and Sungmin swears he saw something break in Kangin’s eyes, and all of a sudden, his hyung is crying, blubbering through the tears, shouting, “Yah, answer me.” He manages to push the words out of his mouth in between chuckles and hiccups and it ends up sounding messed up and they laugh and Sungmin thinks that this is all he wants to remember.

It was like the two years passed by like a blur.

The gates opened and Kangin came out. Leeteuk pushed himself away from their line, standing a good five paces in front of everyone, his arms spread open. Kangin ran into his arms and it’s like the past two years never happened. Time restarted.

Nothing’s really changed.

“Hey,” a voice says from in front of him. He looks forward and sees Kyuhyun kicking at the few stray pebbles on the asphalt, the rubber soles of his shoes squeaking at the friction. Sungmin crosses his arms over his chest, and offers Kyuhyun a nod.

Kyuhyun walks, still kicking at a stubborn piece of rubble, arriving at the space next to Sungmin. Kyuhyun sees the battling emotions in Sungmin’s eyes, conflicting, and perhaps clawing at his chest from the inside. He wonders why his hyung never showed his emotions in public.

He watches as Sungmin looks at him from the corner of his eyes. Kyuhyun scoots closer to him, his shoulder nearly touching the elder’s. He thinks it’s silly, but he thinks of all the happy things that’s happened this day, and he tries projecting it out, maybe sending the happy, euphoric feeling to his hyung that was standing just next to him.

Sungmin stays silent, eyes squinted, lips pressed into a thin line.

Kyuhyun leans in, his lips nearly brushing Sungmin’s ear, “Hyung.”

Sungmin releases a long, strained sigh, then turns to look up at Kyuhyun, “What, Kyuhyun?”

And Kyuhyun knows something is bothering his hyung because he calls him Kyuhyun, and he knows that he rarely calls him Kyuhyun because he always calls him Kyuhyunnie. Sungmin’s eyes don’t meet Kyuhyun’s, not because he doesn’t want to, but because of the reason that if he looks into them and sees the unwavering support and the undeniable love and faith in them, it will be his last undoing.

Sungmin shakes his head, pushing the tears back, wanting to bury them in the darkest, farthest recesses of his mind because the last thing he wants to do is to cry and show his emotions, because he knows it will make him weak. And he doesn’t like feeling weak.

Kyuhyun offers him a soft smile, though he knows his hyung can’t see it. He reaches out and laces his hand with Sungmin. He tugs and Sungmin’s shoulder collides softly with his. Kyuhyun wraps his arms around his hyung, a hand cupping the back of Sungmin’s head, bringing it to rest on his chest.

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” Kyuhyun says with a voice, the same voice that had crooned in Sungmin’s ear two years ago, on the day Kangin entered the army. The arms that are wrapped around him are the same arms that hugged and rocked and comforted him two years ago. And now, Sungmin finds himself breaking and sobbing and weeping in the arms of the same person, two years ago. Sungmin realises that it’s okay, that he’s human and he feels and he breaks and he loves.

Sungmin realises that it’s been two years.

Nothing’s really changed.

Inspired by this photoset (credits to 24-7draculapc@tumblr). I know it's been two days since Kangin's discharge from the military (yay!) and I was a little lazy that day but I found myself opening Word and typing this out like word vomit at stupid o'clock this morning and here I am posting it. //flips the universe